She figured nothing too terrible occurred since he only reamed her out for logging the evidence out, not screwing with it somehow.
She never touched other cases that weren’t hers, unless someone asked her to. He should know that. He should know her. Trust her.
That’s what hurt. He obviously had no faith in her.
“Hey, Susan. How’s it going?”
She blinked a few times, unaware she had zoned out in the kitchen of the third victim’s home and turned around to Sauer, who stood a few feet away.
For his benefit, she produced a smile. “I’m fine. I found a few prints on these wine glasses. I’m sure some are from the victim. I’m hoping the other prints are from the killer. Which means…”
He nodded. She obviously didn’t need to finish the sentence. If the victim was sharing a glass of wine with her killer, it meant she let the person in. She knew the killer. The other two victims’ homes didn’t have any indication their homes were broken into. Perhaps this killer knew all the women. The only problem was, so far, Sauer and Newman hadn’t found a connection between the women. If they all knew the killer, then did they know each other as well?
“Umm…so…no problems, then?”
She smiled, hoping to ease the stress written all over Sauer’s face and in his posture. It was sweet of him to worry, but she didn’t want any of her friends to do that. She was fine. She could handle this. She could handle Newman and his attitude problem. She could handle anything thrown her way. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
“No problems, but thanks for asking.”
She made sure there were no problems. As soon as she walked into the house, she bee-lined it to the furthest room from Newman. Talking to him, even breathing the same air next to him, was too much to handle after the latest incident with Scott. The kitchen appeared to be the safest place. Newman, as far as she knew, was still in the victim’s bedroom. She’d tackle that room as soon as he left, which he should be doing soon since Sauer finally made it.
“Umm…so…”
She eyed Sauer quizzically as he stuttered over his words once again. He clearly wanted to ask her something, but was afraid to. She always found his nervousness and shyness so endearing. He was one of the sweetest men she knew.
“Honestly, Sauer, I’m fine. You guys have to stop worrying about me.”
He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink, and smiled crookedly. “I know. I wasn’t going to say anything about Newman again, I was going to…”
Her brows dipped further, even more confused now about what he wanted to say.
Then his eyes glossed to her finger that she had wrapped with a band-aid instead of the bulky gauze. It was starting to heal slowly. Today was the first morning where she was able to let the wound breathe and it didn’t hurt to touch.
“I wanted to ask how your finger is.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Maybe if she repeated the word fine enough, she’d actually believe it. Because everything wasn’t fine. Everything was a complete cluster. She had no idea how to fix any of it.
“Well, if you need me, you know I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”
“I know that. Thank you, Sauer.”
She knew she’d never bring any of her problems to his doorstep. Especially the one concerning Stitch. Talk about awkward when his wife was Stitch’s best friend.
Stitch.
Now, that was a man she didn’t even want to think about. But like a glutton for punishment, she couldn’t stop thinking about him since she left his house last night.
Damn him for playing her as he did.
And damn her for falling into his sexy, dirty charm.
Thankfully, Sauer and Newman left not too long after her slightly awkward conversation with Sauer to interview the neighbors. Hopefully someone saw something, because so far, all three cases were lacking in any clues to point to a killer.
According to Sauer, when they talked about the case yesterday, Tonya, the first victim, her ex-husband, Chris, had no alibi, claiming he was home by himself sleeping and couldn’t provide any clues who would want to hurt Tonya. He said they had been having issues lately because they shared custody of their dog, which had created a lot of tension during the divorce. He claimed it wasn’t something he’d kill her over. Sauer wasn’t sure what he thought about the guy, and without any evidence to put him at the crime scene, he couldn’t arrest him even without an alibi.
The second victim’s family and friends couldn’t provide any additional information to aid in the case, and most of them had a solid alibi.
So far, Chris was their only suspect because he had no alibi, but they couldn’t find any evidence he knew the second victim, and she figured Sauer would start right away finding a link to the third if he could.
Stress emanated from the guys at having to find this killer, using pure skill with no evidence to help their case. She didn’t envy them one bit. Her job was to find a tiny scrap of evidence to help lead them in a certain direction. So far, she’d been failing miserably.
After dusting for prints over almost every available surface, training her eyes to pick up any anomalies in the house, tagging and bagging evidence in the bedroom where the victim died, she was ready to go home and crash. With all that meticulous hard work, taking her time in each room, checking window sills for tampering or prints, dusting doorknobs, taking swabs of blood samples from a few smears in the bedroom, she couldn’t believe she had been at the crime scene for over five hours. She usually took her time, but it generally didn’t take her that long unless the crime scene was a disaster. This one wasn’t terrible. Although, it did appear pristine as the second crime scene, as if the killer cleaned up and replaced anything that might’ve been displaced during a struggle.
She was optimistic about the blood she found. The first two crime scenes didn’t have a speck of blood, considering all the women had been strangled. The latest victim didn’t have any wounds or bruises that she could see to indicate the blood was hers. Perhaps Dr. Everly would find a wound during the autopsy that she hadn’t seen. Or, maybe the blood came from the killer when the victim tried to fight back. That’s what she was hoping.
By the time she made it home, her body was so exhausted and tired, she didn’t know if she’d make it from the garage to the house. The entire day, everything that happened, wore her out.
She closed the garage door with a touch of a button and disarmed her alarm as she walked inside the house.
She needed a shower. She felt dirty and disgusting. A normal feeling after working a crime scene. Her shower was longer than normal as she let the hot stream of water soothe her weary bones. Her mind wandered over everything.
Should she rescind her application for the supervisor position?
Should she take a vacation to get her mind back to a restful place?
Should she accuse Rachel of trying to frame her for something she didn’t do? Well, she would as soon as she had the evidence to prove it. She’d talk to Gus tomorrow to look at the surveillance video for the evidence room.
When the water started to chill her to the bone, she knew it was time to get out. After drying off, she wrapped herself in her thin blue robe and couldn’t decide if she should go to bed right away or watch some television or a movie. Or even grab a bite to eat. She hadn’t eaten supper yet.
At that moment, her stomach grumbled loudly. Chuckling, she knew then what her decision would be. Food.
Scrounging through her pantry and fridge, she couldn’t decide what to eat. Nothing looked appetizing. She should eat, her stomach was telling her to eat, yet she couldn’t make up her mind.
Her eyes glossed over some salad, the leftover chicken dinner from two days ago, and the fixings for a sandwich. Not one thing appealed to her.
Maybe she could order Chinese food. That sounded yummy. And easy. She wouldn’t have to make anything or heat anything up, just a simple phone call.
8:06 PM
The doorbell rang again before she could reach the door. As soon as she looked through the peephole, she figured she should change first. Being completely naked underneath her robe, a robe that was thin and almost see-through, didn’t seem like the smartest idea when she had to open the door to Stitch. Even as mad as a hornet she was at the man, her body instantly responded to seeing him.
The doorbell rang once again.
Clearly, he wasn’t planning to leave until she opened the door.
Should she open the door?
During her shower, she thought of everything that happened recently, her mind jumping in circles, going round and round and round until she almost felt dizzy trying to come up with a solution to all her problems.
Except the only thing she didn’t think about was Stitch. She didn’t want to think about how he took her heart and crumbled it so easily.
But one thing she knew, she never backed away from a challenge. She never ignored her problems. Right now, Stitch was a problem she needed to deal with.
She unlocked the door and slowly opened it. She refused to let the sadness that cloaked his eyes weaken her defenses she had erected the moment she found out he had a girlfriend.
“What do you want, Stitch?”
His eyes grazed up and down. The fire in his eyes instantly made her heart hammer in her chest, made her ache for his touch, for his sweet, dirty words.
“Are you naked underneath that slimsy ass robe?” His breath hitched. “Damn, Suzey baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Chapter 8
He couldn’t stop his eyes grazing her delectable body one more time. By the look on her face, she wasn’t appreciating his predatory gaze. What could he say? She got him hot and bothered with one simple look. He couldn’t help how he reacted to her.
“If you came looking for sex, you can think again.”
He figured that out on his own, but he was hoping this conversation turned in his favor and he’d be getting some before he left. He had to play his cards right, though.
“Can I come in so we can talk?”
Her eyes narrowed. “And how does your girlfriend feel about you coming here to speak to me?”
He tried not to sound exasperated. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He had no idea how Clarissa was feeling right now. He hadn’t spoken to her since last night, and he honestly had no intention of speaking to her anytime soon. Her behavior was out of line last night. He was done trying to help. Perhaps some jail time would clear her head. At this point, he wasn’t sure how to help her anymore. Maybe staying away would be the best solution. For both of them.
“So Officer Spencer lied to me? Not likely.”
“Look, I don’t know what Clarissa might’ve said to the police, but we haven’t dated in a long time.”
“So she was once your girlfriend?”
“You gonna hold my past against me, Susan? I didn’t think you were that kind of person.”
“And I didn’t think you were a sniveling dirty snake.”
He took a deep breath before responding, his anger slowly building that she wasn’t taking his word for what it was. The truth. “We dated when we were nineteen. She’s a friend now. Nothing more.”
“What was she doing at your house, then? I have to say, Stitch, I’m not friends with any of my ex-boyfriends. I have this feeling if I was, you wouldn’t appreciate it much.”
His blood started to boil. Hell, no, he wouldn’t like that shit. He hated the point she was making, but the fact was, Clarissa was a friend. A friend he couldn’t turn his back on. He wouldn’t. Not even for Susan. Not even if Clarissa was starting to become a pain in his ass.
He might not be prepared to go see her, but if she showed up on his doorstep again, he knew he’d never shove her away, even if he wanted to with every breath in his body. It was messed up, but he couldn’t change the way he felt.
“Can you please let me in so we can talk about this without your neighbors gawking at us?”
She made a point to look behind him, her eyes widening with mock horror. “Oh, my. I see no one paying attention to my front door. So, no, I don’t think I want you to come in so you can try to weasel your way into my bed, because that’s ultimately your end game, isn’t it?”
His jaw clenched at how well she read him. Of course he wanted back into her bed. Every time they had sex, it got better and better. Usually sex was sex. But with Susan, the crazy things they did together, was something he couldn’t express properly with words. Each time they came together, it stepped up a notch in those nameless words.
“I’m sorry how I acted last night, but she’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend who needed some help. Before I could stop her, it got out of hand.”
“What does that even mean?”
His hands clenched and unclenched. Explaining would take more time than she was obviously willing to give him. He didn’t want to have this kind of conversation on her doorstep. Hell, he didn’t want to have the conversation at all. But he would. He’d force himself if she let him inside.
“Can I come inside…please?”
The anger slowly drifted out of her features. Now she looked sad and tired. “Not tonight, Stitch. I’m exhausted. I can’t do this with you.” She swallowed hard before whispering with her voice cracking a bit, “I thought I could do a casual fling with you. But that’s not who I am. I want more from a guy. I want commitment. If you can’t give me that, then we’re done here.”
His heart had never been broken by a woman before. He never let a woman in that far to let it happen. For the first time, he felt a small tear in his heart. A tiny seepage of pain that almost made it difficult to breathe.
He wasn’t ready to lose Susan out of his life, even though he knew it’d never work out. Commitment? He wasn’t that kind of guy, especially for a woman like her. Someone pure and sweet and as fresh as a drop of rain.
“Your silence is answer enough.” The door started to slowly close. “Take care of yourself, Stitch.”
The door shut with a quiet click.
He stood there for a brief moment wondering whether he should knock on the door again. Beg forgiveness some more. Weasel his way back into her bed with empty promises. That’s how badly he didn’t want to walk away. But that’s all those promises would be. Empty. Irrevocably empty.
Well, he could say it was fun while it lasted.
He turned around and walked away.
♡
Susan rubbed her hands over her pants, trying to wipe away the nerves that had suddenly flooded her system.
She had to admit, she was still reeling from Stitch’s visit last night. She gave him an ultimatum, and he made the choice she dreaded as soon as the words slipped out.
Sure, she could’ve let him inside to talk about his friend that was supposedly not his girlfriend. She sensed there was a big story behind their friendship and that he was willing to tell her, but only if she let him inside. But where did that leave them? She’d have more knowledge of who he was, what kind of man he was, and her heart would soak it all up. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—offer more than sex, so why should she continue to open her heart to him? She’d only end up hurt after it was all said and done. Feeling the pain now, only a tiny bit, rather than struggling to mend her heart down the road, sounded like the better option.
She made the right decision even if it didn’t feel like the right decision. Casual sex wasn’t her thing. She didn’t sleep with men just for the pleasure of sex. She had meaningful relationships before they all fell apart. That’s what she wanted from him. That’s what she should’ve insisted from him before they slept together.
Lesson learned.
She wouldn’t fall into that mistake again.
One problem solved in her l
ife.
Now she had to fix another, but she found it difficult to move her feet forward and enter the evidence room. She wanted vindication, the proof she didn’t do what she was accused of. She also wanted to ignore it. Because she felt so tired. Exhausted from everything.
Swiping her hands across her pants one more time, she then took a deep breath and pushed open the door that would lead her to the evidence room at the end of the hallway.
She produced a friendly smile as she greeted Gus, who sat at a desk behind a caged window. “How’s your morning going, Gus?”
“Oh, same ol’, same ol’, Susan. And yours?”
“You know me, busy bee.” Her smile got brighter, more intense, as did her nerves. “So, hey, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Yeah, sure thing. What can I do for you?”
This might get a little tricky. Because she didn’t want to insinuate he wasn’t doing his job by not paying attention who signed in and when. When she thought about it, he didn’t usually glance at the signature when she signed in and out of the evidence room, he always looked at her face. She didn’t blame him. He didn’t need to look at the sheet when he knew who it was. Which was what Rachel probably relied on when she forged her signature. Saying all of that would indicate he didn’t do his job correctly. Unfortunately, as much as she didn’t want to point it out, it was the truth.
“Well, you know, Scott mentioned to me that I signed out some of Rachel’s evidence the other day, and I didn’t. I was wondering if we could look over the forms and the videos to see why he’d think that.” She blew out a tiny breath, that she hoped he didn’t see, and waited with her entire body coiled with tension that he wouldn’t take offense.
Gus’s eyes narrowed, a frown marring his features. The friendliness they exchanged moments before, suddenly gone.
“I don’t recall you signing out someone else’s evidence. You don’t do things like that.”
Thank you, Gus. Why couldn’t her boss have that same faith in her? That trust? Not to mention, it sounded like Scott didn’t even talk to Gus about the incident, he only took Rachel’s word for it.
One Taste of Sin (A One Taste Novel Book 4) Page 8